


Hatchlings And Other Stumpers

by NotNecessarilyInThatOrder



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Aithusa plays nanny, Fluff and Humor, Gen, He's Wise But Also Easily Fed Up, Healing, Merlin and Gwen Act Like Friends Again, Pondering The Future, but a little serious too, you'll see - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-27
Updated: 2018-10-27
Packaged: 2019-08-08 04:32:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16422470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotNecessarilyInThatOrder/pseuds/NotNecessarilyInThatOrder
Summary: Gwen is emotional and slightly oblivious. Merlin is distracted and slightly oblivious. Aithusa wonders what he did wrong to be stuck dealing with both of them.





	Hatchlings And Other Stumpers

**Author's Note:**

> Yes I know I should be working on my other stories but this wouldn’t leave me alone so I had to write it. I think it’s cute, hopefully you will too. 
> 
> Note: I know Aithusa’s gender is a hotly debated topic in the fandom but I’m sticking with the only in canon reference I could find which is when upon hatching Kilgharrah clearly calls the baby dragon "him". Want a girl dragon in your story? Knock yourself out. But please don’t leave a comment saying I got it “wrong” Thanks!

A rustling at the front of the tent pulled Merlin’s attention from the herbs he was mixing. The flaps opened slowly, granting admittance to the queen of Camelot who’s face broke into a large smile the second she spotted him. 

“They told me you’d be in here.”

He answered her grin with one of his own, surprised at the weight lifting off of his shoulders. It had been a rough few days, and Gwen always managed to cheer him up no matter the difficulty of what he was doing. She’d been his staunchest supporter as all their lives had begun changing over the past several months, and even now was going out of her way to prove she was there for him. Gratitude didn’t stop him from expressing his concern however.

“I wasn’t sure you’d make it. Are you sure you’re up to being here?”

She rolled her eyes, coming to stand by his side. “Whatever Arthur’s been telling you I’m fine! He’s worrying too much.”

“He has every right to worry. Headaches and nausea are the first symptoms of this virus.”

“I know that. I nursed almost as many of the people as you and Gaius did when it hit the town. You didn’t get sick, there’s no reason to believe I should.”

He looked at her doubtfully but her expression didn’t show any of the tells it usually did when she was trying to hide how she felt.

“If you’re sure. But if you start feeling ill you have to tell me right away.”

She sighed but nodded in agreement.

“If that’s settled do you want me to help you in here or would I be able to visit with any of the ones already recovering? Are any of them up to it?”

“Some of them are I’m sure. The children are over the worst of it at least, they always bounce back the fastest. Though please don’t be offended if they’re a bit…” He hesitated over how to best warn of the feelings the clan members might not express.

Gwen guessed them anyway. “If they’re cautious of me? Don’t worry Merlin, I know how Camelot’s viewed among the druids. But I’m here as a person not a queen. If you’ll notice I even took the effort to look the part.”

Glancing down, he took in her loose fitting tunic dress and lack of jewels. Of course she’d be sensitive to the distrust her appearance might foster. He should have expected as much from her. “Of course, forgive me I-”

“Done. Now let’s go.”

“Er, right.” Offering her his arm he led her back out of the tent.

The druid camp was enormous but somehow managed to give off a homey and restful feeling. After only a few minutes Gwen was perfectly at ease, listen eagerly as he pointed out the various areas set up for housing the worst of the sick and injured, and entertaining those who were on the mend.

A ring of fires in the center common area provided a gathering place for the able bodied amongst the camp, as well as a place to cook the tribe’s meals and brew potions that would be difficult to get right in the confines of a tent.    

The queen absorbed all this in silence at first but soon began asking questions, both about his work in caring for them, and then about the druids lives in general. Some of her questions he could answer directly, others would have to be asked of those who actually experienced said way of life.

Before long such a person presented themselves in the form of the tribe’s leaders. In this clan they were an elderly woman and her son who, while he was formally in charge of the tribes daily affairs, still cherished his mother’s counsel and often bowed to her wisdom in the event of difficulties. Merlin had become fast friends with them both and had no trouble reassuring Gwen that they could happily part ways for a time and she would be in the best of hands.

Accepting her promise that she wouldn’t be gone long, so as not to greatly disturb the recovery of those she would visit, Merlin turned back to the healer’s tent. Halfway there a low growl sounded at the edge of his hearing, drawing his gaze toward the eastern edge of the camp where Aithusa was endeavoring to keep track of his own charges.

The human population had not been the only ones affected as the virus had spread up into the mountains. Two nests of wyvern eggs had been left orphaned nearby and the druids, working on their tenants that all lives were worth saving even those they didn’t understand, had taken them in in the hopes that they could provide care for the newborns until they were strong enough to survive on their own.

That had turned out to be a bigger job than anticipated and the relief when Merlin and Aithusa had arrived to provide aid had been palpable. The wyverns had quickly became their responsibility.  

On the whole the hatchlings had been indifferent (and exceedingly hard to manage) where Merlin was concerned, but they’d taken to Aithusa in an instant and now trailed after him everywhere like ducklings following their mother. It was both heartwarming and amusing. To Merlin anyway. Aithusa acted as if it were all a great trial, although Merlin knew he was more than a little fond of his tiny cousins.

Most of the time he kept them in order, but this past week they’d begun a wyvern’s version of fledgling and were eager to test their wings at every opportunity. Aithusa’s patience was growing shorter and shorter as the time passed.

Merlin watched as the white dragon, after letting out another, sharper growl finally managed to corral the hatchlings into the area designated as theirs, where he sternly ordered them, in the best way they understood, to stay put. They protested but eventually bowed to superior firepower - figuratively this time, Merlin took comfort in the thought - and settled.

Leaving them to sleep, Aithusa approached his dragonlord slowly and gave him a friendly nudge in the side. Responding to the silent request for a scratch, Merlin attacked his ears with gusto making the dragon practically purr with relief.

Ever since his healing the young dragon’s natural growth rate had been restored, meaning he was constantly shedding loose scales somewhere on his body. Right now it was the back of his neck and head, places not easily reached by the dragon himself. So Merlin was developing the skill of working on everything one handed so he had always the other free for when Aithusa had a random attack of the itches.  

_ “Hatchlings!”  _ The dragon grumbled after a minute of relishing Merlin’s handiwork.

“They’re worth it, you know they are.”

_ “Easy for you to say.” _

“Yeah maybe,” Merlin agreed. “But who knows, one day those rumors of other dragon eggs may prove true. You could find yourself with your own hatchling to look after.”

_ “You first.”  _ Aithusa retorted.

Merlin couldn’t help the snort. “Yes, because there is totally a line.”

_ “Lots of females would have Emrys’ hatchling.” _

“I know. But how many would have Merlin’s?”

Aithusa considered that thoughtfully, his head cocked to one side. Merlin let him chew on the matter, while he forced his own mind to focus on less depressing topics.

_ “One will.”  _ Aithusa finally announced.

“What’s that?”

_ “One female will be Merlin’s mate, have your hatchlings.” _

“And who do you suppose that’s going to be?”

_ “You already know who. Friend who came to big celebration, friend I met.” _

“That’s not...no, Aithusa. We’re friends yes, but I can’t marry her. She’s a pr-”

_ “You’ll see,”  _ the dragon nodded decisively.  _ “This time next year, Merlin’s mate be here. Hatchling come year after. Male hatchling, next dragonlord.” _

“Stop right there.” Merlin cut him off. “Some things are best left a mystery. And too much of my life has been planned for me. I want some things to be my choice.”

Whatever remark Aithusa was going to make in return - and it would have been a doozy Merlin was sure - was stopped by Gwen’s reappearance.

She was smiling brightly as she approached them, a collection of random wildflowers tucked behind her ear, and a near skip to her step. She took Merlin’s hand and leaned her head briefly against his shoulder.

“You’re in a good mood,” he commented, grateful none of Camelot’s court scandalmongers were around to see her behavior. He shuddered at the whispers and rumors that would fly about the affection she was showing him. Arthur wouldn’t believe the gossip was anything more than just that, but still it was the last thing any of them needed.

If she heard the warning in his voice she ignored it, smiling once again. “Something about this place, I don’t know. I’m worried for the druids and the other refugees of course, but I can’t help but feel happy. Happier than I’ve been in ages.” She frowned slightly. “I can’t explain it.”

_ “Hatchling.” _

“Lay off it Aithusa.”

_ “Hatchling!” _

Merlin made an exasperated noise. “What is it? Is something wrong with them? Show me.” He started to move in the direction of the nestlings, lying contentedly in the sun. Aithusa cut him off with a bump to the stomach and an eager chirp.  

“What? You want me to look at the hatchlings.” 

Aithusa shook his scaly head.  _ Not those. _

“Did one get away?” He cast his eyes about the camp trying to remember exactly how many baby wyverns there were.

The dragon stomped his foot and tossed his head Gwen’s direction.  _ “No. This is a hatchling!” _

“Aithusa don’t be rude.”

“What’s he saying about me?” Gwen asked.

“He’s calling you a hatchling for some reason.”

She pursed her lips. “Well, didn’t you say his egg was laid over 400 years ago? My age compared to that, I am basically an infant.”  

“He’s never called you that before.”

“No,” she agreed. “But I’ve hardly ever seen him really. Maybe it’s the first time he’s thought of it.”

Aithusa let out a noise somewhere between a growl and a whine before running over to the baby wyverns.

_ “These are hatchlings,”  _ he said. Slowly and deliberately, waiting for Merlin’s nod of agreement before walking back.

Passing the two of them he went to stand next to a druid woman who was leaning over a hand loom weaving a small blanket. She startled at his appearance, but patted his snout in a friendly way. He gave her a tolerant look then touched the tip of said snout lightly against her protruding belly,  _ “This is a hatchling? _ ”  

When Merlin nodded again he rejoined them, and repeated his previous action against Gwen and her, albeit flat, midsection.  _ “This is a hatchling.” _

“Oh...you mean she’s..? You do.”

Gwen, who despite just over six years of marriage hadn’t been infected with Pendragon propensity for complete obliviousness, picked up the tone of not the actual words of their conversation, and pressed a hand to her stomach.

“Is he saying?” She met Merlin’s gaze, looking a little faint. “Really?”

“Aithusa are you  _ sure _ ?”

The dragon let out a condescending noise equivalent to a human’s huff.  _ “I can sense life inside her.” _

Sucking in a breath Merlin nodded to Gwen who was pressing her other hand to her mouth in a valiant, but ultimately worthless, attempt to stop the tears flowing freely down her cheeks.

All thoughts of court gossip forgotten Merlin pulled her into a hug and let her cry on his shoulder. Feeling a nuzzle against his hip he turned his own blurry gaze down to see Aithusa looking back and forth between the two of them, his face full of curiosity and confusion.

_ “Why are you sad?”  _ he asked, nuzzling Gwen in turn and offering a comforting chirp when she pulled back to look at him.

“She’s not sad Aithusa.”

“No, no, not in the least,” the queen confirmed, crouching down to look the dragon in the eye. “I’ve wanted to hear I’m with child for so long…” her voice choked off and she cleared her throat noisily. “Thank you for telling me. I wondered but I didn’t want to believe…”

“Does Arthur know you’ve been suspicious?” Merlin asked, mind already running wild imagining the prat’s reaction.

Gwen smiled. “No. I didn’t want to give him a false hope. He probably still won’t believe it now, even though I know it’s true.” 

“We could always get Aithusa to tell him,” he offered, only to burst out laughing at the dragon’s expression a moment later.

“What? What did he say?”

“He says no, two clueless humans were enough. Nothing will induce him to tell a third. We are officially on our own.”


End file.
